Tender Ties
by Basmathgirl
Summary: There's snowy fog, and two people walking in it. Okay, there's more to it than that, but the Doctor and Donna are in denial about a great many things.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I only owned a railway ticket when I wrote this. I do not own these characters, Doctor Who, or even the Tatennant Secret Santa event this was written for.

 **A/N:** part of this was written on a steam train; and that fact might show in places. I didn't know where to start until my son offered the prompt: 'it was a foggy night'.

* * *

 **Tender Ties**

 **Part 1**

.

"Oh how wizard!" Donna exclaimed as they stepped out of the TARDIS, and pulled her coat more tightly around her body. "It's planet of the Christmases."

The Doctor followed closely behind and grimaced as they surveyed the snowy landscape; empty except for a distant line of conifer trees and distant mountains. "Not necessarily," he tried to appease her sudden bad mood. "It might be continuous winter here."

"And that is SO much better," she muttered as she walked away from him. "We've landed in Narnia. Point me in the direction of the nearest supply of Turkish delight."

"Donna!" he called after her once she had trudged about ten steps towards the tree line that edged the snowbound vista. "You're going in the wrong direction."

Her head swivelled round to give him her best glare-of-death. "Wrong direction for what exactly, Time boy?"

To her annoyance he merely beamed enthusiastically and bounced on his heels. "To the nearest provider of sustenance, of course."

"Oh course," she sarcastically repeated, and began making her way back to him. "How do you know which is the right way to go?"

He tapped the side of his nose, still grinning that broad smile that made her want to smack it clean off his face. "I can smell it."

"Can't we all," she pretended to agree. "I'll tell you what I can smell, and it begins with 'BS'."

"Now now, play nicely, Donna Noble," he warned her lightly. "I promised you an exciting adventure."

"You also promised me a beach, and yet here we are," she sneered. "Right where I don't want to be."

"How do you know until we go and explore it?" he argued, sweeping a hand to indicate their current situation. "Out there might be the most thrilling adventure to undergo, the tastiest food, or the love of your life."

She followed the sweep of his hand with her eyes, taking in the view again. "Or I could end up with frostbite, a lovely case of the flu' or a romantic encounter with a bear."

"Why would you want a romantic encounter with a bear?" he wondered, scrunching his face up in confusion.

It deepened when she admitted, "I wouldn't."

"Then why mention it?" His brow puckered into frown lines.

"Because coming up against a fierce bear might be the most romantic thing I'll get here," she explained.

"Pft!" He laughed. "Call me weird, but I hardly rate a bear as being a romantic creature."

"That's my point, dumbo!" she snapped. "Winter wonderlands like this are never romantic for me. Ever."

"Then why did you pick Christmas Eve for your wedding day?" he asked before he could stop himself.

He didn't, did he? Donna gasped in shock. "To break… It was a feeble attempt to break an unlucky streak. Thank you so much for reminding me."

"I'm sorry," he immediately apologised. "It was wrong of me to bring that up, but you still haven't explained exactly why you hate Christmas."

Looking away briefly, she decided to face this head on. "What did you do the Christmas before I met you?"

It was his turn to feel down as unwanted memories hit. "I spent it with my… friend," he quietly answered. "Why are you bringing that up?"

"From what Martha told me, Rose wasn't just your friend but your girlfriend," she gently clarified, edging closer to offer comfort with a hand on his arm. "I'm mentioning it because do you know what I did that Christmas? No. I spent the whole time at my Gran's bedside, nursing her as she slowly died."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, but she chose to ignore that for a moment.

"The Christmas before that, I was with Nerys helping her partner give birth. Christmas 2003, I spent rescuing my friend from an abusive boyfriend, ferrying her from the police station to her family in Wales. I stayed to make sure her kids were safe." She then took in a long breath. "I thought things might change after I met you, but last year things were back to normal and I was back to doing exactly the same thing for Dad; seeing him through his last days. Every Christmas gets taken over by some drama involving someone else. It's never for me. And don't get me started on those never-ending hideous Christmas parties where every sleazily bloke takes it as an open invite to grope whoever stands near them without considering the consequences. There's usually no one offering me any sort of support; and don't even mention having a proper bloke in my life."

"Why not?" He took her hands within his own; having suspected this was behind her little outburst.

She lifted her head to stare directly into his eyes, blinking away the tears that wanted to fall. "Because nobody wants to spend time with me at Christmas. I can't tell you how many times I've been dumped just so they can avoid buying me a present. Sometimes they try to get together afterwards, only to dump me again right before Valentine's Day. You may be all moody and whatshername but at least you got to spend Christmas with your girlfriend; knowing she loved you and you loved her back. I've never had that and never will."

Shaking his head, he vowed, "You will. There is someone who will love you each and every Christmas."

Donna snorted her scorn. "Says you. Who is this magic someone? Got him hiding in your pocket?"

"What if I said that you have a bright future ahead of you?" the Doctor reasoned, trying a different tactic. "One where you will be adored."

"What if I know you are talking complete and utter codswallop?" she countered, and then did her best to smile bravely. "Honestly, Doctor, it's lovely of you to try and cheer me up, but we both know that men don't fall in love with women like me."

"Does it have to be a man?" he near whispered, so that she hardly heard the words.

She instantly frowned. "I may be modern but I don't fancy women, if that's what you're suggesting."

"No, it isn't," he replied. "I was thinking male but not necessarily a man."

"Now you've lost me," she confessed. "Unless you're talking about an alien bloke…," she carefully mused.

"Yes," he answered far too enthusiastically, nodding. So he coughed and tried again. "Yes, that's what I meant."

"And you think this alien bloke is somewhere out there in all this snow," she pondered, and screwed her eyes up to look far out into the distance. "Some abominable snowman or other."

"Or other," he agreed. "He could be… oooh… standing right near you." He did that bouncing thing again.

It was best to ignore that, she thought. "That'd make him a troll that lives underground," she stated as she briefly considered the ground beneath their feet. "Or a tree monkey, or the invisible man. Trust me to end up with a will o' the wisp." She threw an impish smile at him that went straight to his hearts.

"You never know. How about we go and have a look at the trees over there?" he proposed. "Have ourselves a bit of a walk, and work up an appetite?"

"Yes, why not," she decided, taking hold of his offered arm. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh. Come on then, Spacemen. Bring on the poor sap that will end up as my husband. I can't wait to meet him."

Now grinning at each in glee, they set off across the snowfield towards whatever lay waiting for them.

#~#~#

Fortunately the temperature had risen since they had first landed in this place, which had quickly proven itself to be Earth; and Scotland in particular. They had met some of the locals in the outskirts of the wood, and further beyond. Through them, they had found out exactly where and when they were. In the Great Glen near Fort William, circa 1997.

Hours later they were back to trudging across the landscape, walking close together, except the conditions were very different this time around compared to the beginning of the day before.

It was a foggy night on the Highland moors, with meagre moonlight to aid them, so the Doctor fished in his pocket and brought out a torch. Eerie light filtered through the evening mist, making the perfect accompaniment to their slow slog across the boggy ground and remnants of crisp snow that lay in drifts.

"I swear I'm going to kill you for this, Spaceman!" Donna loudly grouched as she yet again tripped over a sudden ditch in the terrain. The only saving grace was that the water below hadn't seeped over the top of her boots. So far.

"What?! This isn't my fault," the Doctor bit back. "This has nothing to do with me whatsoever."

"Oh yeah," she said disbelievingly. "I suppose it wasn't you that blurted out 'we won't run away, I promise we won't' to that idiot in the dirty raincoat."

"In all fairness, I was giving the man my solemn word as a Time Lord," he griped back. "If he chose to think me a liar then I am the injured party here."

"Injured? How exactly does that make you injured?" she petulantly queried.

He held up his wrist in demonstration. "I call that more than a bit miffed," he retorted, glaring at the thick nylon ties encasing it. The only saving grace was that the impromptu handcuffs were of a quality that was far below that of the ones the Ood had once placed there.

She instantly held up her own wrist in counterargument. The wrist binding twisted into the skin around her hand causing her to wince as he lowered his section of their joint bondage. "Miffed is NOT the word! I'm almost totally p-"

"Donna! Please," he begged, interrupting her tirade.

"This is the ladylike thing again, isn't it?" she queried. "Look, I said sorry at the time and I am not going to continually say it just for your entertainment."

"I don't remember you worrying about entertaining me at the Gairlochy Hotel when you met that American bloke," he moaned. "Sandy, was it?"

"You know very well that his name was Randy, so don't pretend you've forgotten. Although I hadn't realised you noticed him talking to me since you were too busy chatting up a blonde, as per usual," she huffed. "Obsessed, you are. I bet you even know her shoe size."

"Well…" He thought for a few seconds. "Based on you, I'd have said Mae takes a size 5."

"How nice for her," Donna sarcastically noted. "Shame she isn't here right now. You'd have been able to tuck her under your arm and frogmarch across this boggy ground. Instead you have to drag this fat lump behind you."

"What fat lump?" he wondered, and looked behind him in case he had missed something obvious.

"Nice save, Spaceman," she muttered; and calmed down as she looked about at their surroundings. "Do your Time Lord senses detect any buildings nearby that might conveniently have snips or a knife? I still can't believe your sonic doesn't do plastic."

"It can't do everything," he retorted and then sniffed the air like a bloodhound would do. "I'm starting to get a coal burning fire, so we're close to something. In fact I'd say it was this way…" He started to walk away and then instantly realised his mistake when the weight of Donna halted his movement and she almost fell over. "Perhaps it would be easier if we held hands," he suggested, and took her willing hand without protest.

Half an hour later they found themselves outside a bleak white painted cottage that had a muddy pathway leading up to the front door, and welcoming lights that added warmth to their surroundings.

Their knock was greeted by a middle-aged man cautiously opening the door and peeping out at them around the partial opening. He was stocky and stood with his shirt open enough to show his string vest revealing his unimpressive hairy chest underneath it. Anxiously peering at his unexpected visitors, he repositioned his braces back onto his shoulders.

"Yes? Can I help you?" the little man asked, holding onto the door tightly.

The Doctor immediately put on his best friendly grin. "Hello! We're the Doctor and Donna Noble. You might have been expecting us," he trilled in greeting and flashed his psychic paper under the man's nose.

Obviously what the man saw impressed him enormously, because he flung open the door, and then smiled broadly. "Come in; it's a cold day that's brought you. We have a room ready and waiting for you both. Jean, my wife, thought you were arriving on Thursday."

"Ah, we like to surprise you," the Doctor replied, after having glimpsed briefly at the paper in his hand.

The man grabbed a key from below the counter that they now knew stood in the entrance hall, featuring a sign proclaiming it to be a B&B owned by Harry and Jean Butler.

"What a lovely place," Donna stated helpfully as they were led further into the building. "Do you do anything here beyond provide accommodation?"

"Oh no," the man they quickly assumed was Harry answered. "There's a craft place down the road if you fancy doing some oil or watercolour painting, or even a spot of calligraphy."

"Not this time, thanks," the Doctor declined.

"Here you are," Harry declared as he reached a room with the number 4 on the door. He opened the door and ushered them in. "There's all mod cons, the en suite is through there and there's spare bedding on the top shelf of the wardrobe. I've given you and your wife our best room so I hope you enjoy your stay with us tonight."

"About that," Donna started to query, but the Doctor interrupted her.

"Do you do food by any chance?" he asked, hoping that if they didn't that at least some refreshment would be offered.

"Why yes. Give us half an hour to set you up a table," Harry supplied, and then immediately bustled off.

Donna waited for the clear sign that Harry had walked away before she asked her first burning question. "Why did you let him think we're married?"

In answer, the Doctor merely lifted their previously covered wrists. "We have to share for the time being, remember."

"In that case we'd better not risk anything more taxing than soup for now," she pointed out. "Not that I hadn't forgotten; not for a second."

"Is that because I'm unforgettable?" he cheekily wondered.

She smiled despite herself. "You could say that, yeah. So…. What's the problem with owning up to us being tied together? And how are we going to ask for those wire cutters?"

"The problem is that we don't know exactly how connected these people are to those men who did this to us," he explained. "As for asking, I'll do what I always do."

"Lie?"

"No!" He glared at her. "I'll make our cover story up as we go along."

"God help us," she murmured. "This I've got to see. Do you think you're capable of acting as though you're in love with me?"

He grinned reassuringly. "I think I can do that."

"Just for the record; don't expect too much snogging," she warned.

With a playful nudge of his shoulder, he wondered, "Are you anticipating some snogging?"

Inevitably she swatted him, but it didn't have the usual power she attained. Damn not being able to use her right hand. It was her favourite.

"So…," she started to say, "all in the space of a day we've been commandeered by some very dodgy people, trusted up by smugglers, left in the middle of nowhere, and assumed to be married hotel inspectors by the local version of Alf Garnet."

"Hotel inspectors employed by a leading holiday company, no less," he boasted. "Nothing but the best with me."

"You tart!" she fondly chided him. "I bet you're loving this. At least we freed that poor creature they were holding from the loch. What was it called again?"

He readily answered, "Ernie."

"No, I don't mean like that, you div! Although he looked an 'Ernie'. I mean his species," she clarified.

"Ah, he is a Nessarian," he supplied, "from the planet Klartoonia, out by the Spar Cluster."

"They've got a Spar?" she immediately wondered.

"As in the shape, not the small grocery shop chain."

"Oh, I see," she sheepishly replied. "I'd wondered why they would. So Ernie will be okay, will he?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Should be. We'll pop by and make sure later, once we've had something to eat."

She held up her hand to remind him. "And got out of these things. Honestly, would it hurt to just ask for a knife or other?"

"Only once we are sure Harry, or whatever his name is, isn't in cahoots with the smugglers and won't march us back to that cellar."

"Yeah, I dunno about you but I don't want to spend another night in there. This room is much better."

"Is that because you are in it with me?" he cheekily suggested as he finished leading her around the room, looking in and behind every single nook and cranny as he went.

It was the light relief she needed, so she laughed merrily at his impudence. "Yeah, because we all know who you'd rather be in a hotel room with."

You. I want you. The words were on his lips, all ready to be spoken, but they never made it out. Instead he made a sort of strangled squeaky sound.

What on earth was wrong with him? He was standing with some inane grin on his face as though he'd just stepped in a cow pat but didn't know how to avoid using the word 'sh!t'. "Are you alright, Doctor?" she asked with deep concern. "You've gone ever so weird. Like, creepy weird."

"I'm fine," he insisted through gritted teeth. "Shall we erm go and find out if this place has a workshop or a garage?"

"Yeah, alright," she agreed, since it seemed like a good idea and he was actually dragging her towards the door so she didn't have much of a choice in it without causing a terrible scene.

Once they were out in the corridor, he lifted his free hand to place his finger against his lips, and told her, "Shush! We have to be quiet."

Well d'uh! Tell her something new. "Who do you think you are? Daniel Craig?" she mocked him in low tones. "Although if you suddenly feel like going all macho with rippling biceps like him in James Bond, don't let me stop you."

If looks could kill!

"Donna, do you have to?" he whined.

It was irresistible for her to retort by stringing out the syllables, "Erm… yeah!" But she followed him faithfully out into the cold outside again. "Oh yay, we're back out here," she muttered sarcastically.

Ignoring that, he led them cautiously around the perimeter of the building until they came to the outer entrance to the kitchen in an annex building which, quite frankly, had seen better days, but at least the door was slightly open. Sneaking in, the Doctor brought out his torch again and flashed it about. "Let me know if you find anything," he whispered.

Donna threw her gaze around the gloom. "Like what? There's all sorts of junk in here."

"The task is get these wrist bindings off," he petulantly reminded her.

"So you won't be interested in this then," she triumphantly remarked as she held up an object she had just found lying next to her on a worktop.

"A knife!" he trilled excitedly, having seen the handle. "You are brilliant. I could kiss you!"

Oh dear! "Let's erm… leave that for when we celebrate later," she suggested, blushing profusely. Trust him to propose the one thing that would throw her for a loop. Damn Martian.

There was a clang from some distance away, heavy footsteps, and then a harsh voice rang out, "Who's in there?!"

"Quick, we've been found," the Doctor hoarsely whispered directly into her ear.

"No kidding, Sherlock," she mumbled, and then let him pull her through the backdoor and out into the night again.

"Must have been that cat!" the same someone bitterly reasoned out.

#~#~#


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

.

Phew! They hadn't been seen creeping back to the bedroom. Closing the door behind them, the Doctor eagerly requested, "Show me the knife you picked up. I can't wait to get out of these cable ties."

With a flurry, Donna withdrew the knife from her coat pocket. "Da dah!" she triumphantly pronounced.

He peered at the knife in her hand. "Is that it?"

"Why? What's wrong with it?" she asked, thinking it was typical him not to be impressed. That is she did, until she saw it herself. "It's a butter knife. I've gone and nicked a crummy butter knife."

"So I see," he confirmed. "But it needn't be the end of the world," he quickly consoled her when her expression dropped in disappointment. "Obviously a chef's knife would have been preferable. Even a cheese knife would have been an improvement; but we can get around this. It will just take a little bit more effort."

"How much effort?" she despondently wondered. "At this rate we'll have to gnaw through these binds with our teeth for days. Sorry."

He nudged her shoulder. "Hey! Where's your sense of adventure gone? We can do this, if we work together. Let's see…" He cast his gaze around the room. "If we use the bed to help us brace ourselves in opposite directions, we can pull and weaken the plastic while I attack it with the knife."

"That could take hours," she gasped in horror.

"We have hours," he drily commented. "Unless you fancy being so closely tied to me all night."

"Let's do this," she said decisively. The last thing she wanted was even more temptation. She'd been tied to him for hours now, and her control was starting to snap. Her bladder wasn't faring too well either; but so far she'd managed to avoid that embarrassment.

Wordlessly, they both kicked off their shoes as quickly as they could before climbing onto the bed, with the Doctor holding onto the headboard and Donna bracing herself as far away from him as she could manage, using her other hand to grip the plastic cord binding them together in order to give the task all her might.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she confirmed. "Don't mind me; just give it all you can."

Shifting his back leg to take a power stance, he let go of the headboard and held the knife against the cord and away from his wrist. Leaning away from her, he called out, "Go!"

Outside in the corridor, Harry Butler slowly made his way to what he thought was his hotel inspectors' room and went to tentatively knock on the door to tell them dinner was ready. As his bent fingers near the wood of the door, he heard a loud groan; then the Doctor yelling out, "That's it Donna, stretch it."

His hand still hovering to rap his knuckles, he overheard, "Pull back and give it a bend."

"That's what I **am** doing."

Intrigued, Harry placed his ear against the wood grain in order to hear more of this enticing pornographic drama.

There was more loud panting, joined by thumps from the bed hitting the wall. "It's getting longer," Donna excitedly stated as the plastic began to stretch, cutting into her wrist. "Bloody hell this is painful."

Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hairline when he heard the Doctor request, "Arch your back, Donna. I'm almost there! Keep going."

"Oh my gawd," Donna's voice joined the Doctor's. "I think I'm going to…"

"Just do it! Give it some welly! I'm really close now."

"ARGHHHHHH!"

A loud shriek rang out, two desperate thuds of the bed against the wall, and then the Doctor could be clearly heard to say, "I'm spent! That did the trick. Success. Are you alright?"

"No! It will take me hours if not days to be able to walk properly again," Donna wailed, clearly in pain. "Why do I let you do this sort of thing to me?"

"Because you wanted to be free," he suggested.

"Not only that," she wheezed as he helped her to her feet. "But I'm absolutely dying to use the loo." With that, she did a half stumble, half dash into the en suite bathroom, slamming the door behind her as she dashed in.

"She should have said," he joked to himself.

A gentle tap on the door drew his attention, so he cautiously opened it a few inches. "Yes? Is there a problem."

On the other side stood Harry; looking rather restless. "I came up to tell you that dinner is ready."

The Doctor broke into a wide grin. "Oh, fantastic! Molto bene!"

At that moment Donna reappeared from the toilet without knowing of their visitor. "I really needed that. You got it off just in time," she joyfully stated before spotting Harry standing in the doorway. "Oh! Is something the matter?"

"Dinner is ready and waiting for you both downstairs." To her consternation, Harry then leered at her. "I'm sure you've both worked up an appetite."

The Doctor opened the door wide in invitation for the man to leave. "Thank you. We'll be right down."

Once he'd gone, the Doctor shared a bewildered look with Donna before dashing to use the toilet himself. Except that Time Lords don't rush about like that to expel body secretions; he was merely carrying out a bathroom inspection….

#~#~#

The meal of venison pie and new potatoes was very welcome as they tucked into it with gusto. But the Doctor could not fail to see the wince of pain from Donna when she accidentally hit her right wrist against the edge of the table. "Anything wrong?" he enquired.

"Not really," she reluctantly replied and gave her skin a tender rub.

"I think there is," he dismissed, and reached across to take hold of her right hand. "I'd say that those plastic ties bit further into your flesh than you are willing to admit."

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything," she confessed, as he drew her hand nearer to him. What was he doing? She watched him with great interest, wondering if he was trying to distract her with some gallant behaviour; when his tongue suddenly flicked out and licked a path across her wrist. "What the bloody hell are you doing?!"

"I'm licking you, Donna."

"I can see that, you numpty!" she blazed, feeling rather flustered. "What I want to know is why?"

"Because I have healing enzymes within my saliva," he explained as though she ought to know already. Except that wasn't all he was doing. Instead, he was carrying out his own mini experiment on her.

"You could have said," she growled under her breath.

"I did!" he maintained. "I said it just now."

She would have thumped him on the arm, but Jean and Harry came back into the otherwise empty dining room, bringing a drink for them.

"Here you go," Jean pleasantly stated as she placed two cups, sugar, cream, and a pot of coffee onto the table. "How are you enjoying your stay so far?"

"Very nice, thank you," the Doctor answered with a smile.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" Jean continued to ask as she finished pouring out the coffee.

"Not necessarily," the Doctor replied, visually checking with Donna that that was correct. "Nothing more than perhaps a spot of telly after the busy activities we've had."

"I'm completely knackered," Donna announced to add to the story. She took a large sip from her cup. "I can't wait to get into bed."

The Doctor idly wondered why both Harry and Jean suddenly looked as though they were trying not to change their expressions. Rather pinched, is the term he would have used to describe them. Carefully, he placed his napkin on the table. "Perhaps we should have an early night. It's been a tiring day."

Jean in particular burst into a smirk before she fought to hide it. "Do you have everything you need in your room?"

"There's a couple of things I'm missing, but I can get by without," Donna sweetly answered.

Okay, the Doctor was officially suspicious now. Their hosts were definitely hiding something.

"I hope you don't mind me saying," Harry began to say as he leaned in close to the Doctor, speaking directly into his ear, "but if you are interested, the Loch Laggan Hotel apparently holds separate nights for your special tastes."

"Special tastes?" the Doctor wondered.

Harry geared himself up to explain, "For you and the misses, and others, if you receive my meaning."

The Doctor frowned. This didn't sound very scientific or planet threatening, whatever it was. "I'm afraid I don't."

"Don't mind him," Jean quickly covered her husband's words. "He doesn't know what he's saying half the time. I'll leave the coffee here for you to help yourselves; and I'll wish you both good night. We'll see you at breakfast. We serve between seven thirty and nine."

"Good night," both Donna and the Doctor bade them farewell as they disappeared from the room, leaving them alone.

Well, that was weird, they both noted. And drank the end of their coffee in confusion.

#~#~#

Now for the tricky bit; going to bed. If she hadn't felt so tired, Donna was sure the Doctor would have forced her to walk to the TARDIS immediately; but as it was, she could hardly keep her eyes open. The previous night had been a long sleepless one, so she had some catching up to do. Part of the tricky situation was that the Doctor evidently needed some sleep too, but there was only one bed, and no comfortable chair, let alone a sofa. Admittedly it was a double bed, but they would still have to share it. The leading question was: what should they wear? Should they strip down to underwear or keep their clothing on?

"I dunno about you, but I need to give my socks a rinse out," she commented as nonchalantly as she could as the bedroom door shut behind them, closing them in.

He frowned. "What about your unmentionables? Won't they need cleaning too?"

"Shush! Don't talk about them. That's why they're unmentionables," she joked, gaining the laugh she had wanted from him. Trouble was, she also wanted a bit more; but she wasn't allowed. "It'd be a bit weird, wouldn't it, if I completely stripped off and washed my smalls?"

The words 'completely stripped' hung about in his brain for far longer than they should have done. "Oh, I dunno. You can risk it if you like." Then her incredulous expression hit him in his common-sense, so he coughed and amended it to, "I could strip off too, if that helps." That expression didn't go away, instead it deepened; making him feel uncomfortable. "Or not, as the case may be."

"Daft Martian," she muttered. "You really have no idea what is so wrong about us both going to bed together in the buff, do you?"

"Erm…" He gave his head a scratch and then his neck a comforting rub. "No, unless us doing so would mean that you and I…" His whole face suddenly flushed a bright red colour while his eyes went wide. "That could lead to mating," he breathily reasoned out.

"No kidding, Sherlock," she mocked as embarrassment made her look away. There was nothing on Earth that could compel her to look him in the eyes yet. "And we all know that's the last thing you'd want to do."

"Oh I can think of…" Again his sentence halted before it was fully formed. "Yes, yes, that's perfectly the case," he mumbled. "We can share a bed without nakedness causing us problems of a carnal nature."

"Too right it won't," she snorted. "Hang on," she bit out, whirling her head around to glare at him. "Who said we would be naked?"

"You did," he cautiously replied. "I distinctly remember you suggesting completely stripping off."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times as rage and something else tried to take a foothold. So she opted for the safest answer. "I said I would have to strip off IF I washed my knickers in the sink. How did that morph into us being both naked?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes these things escalate."

"Can you actually hear yourself?" she wondered. "This is fast becoming a sketch out of Benny Hill. In next to no time I'll be running around in suspenders and a bra."

"Do you really think you should, Donna? It's a bit nippy to do that," he pointed out.

So she hit him on the arm.

"Ow!" he complained. "I'm not the one proposing running about in your… your… your… your fineries."

It was time to take charge, she decided. He could take it back when they next faced some weird alien. Although the alien standing in front of her couldn't have been weirder if he tried. "Listen here, Sunshine. I am going to go into the shower room or whatever you call it, I will wash, get into bed in my undies, you will then join me and not cop a feel, or so help me God you will be wearing your balls around your neck for the rest of your life."

"A little harsh," he cautioned, feeling affronted. "But if you want to shower and wear a towel to bed, I promise similar regulations would apply."

"In my underwear," she stressed, nipping that idea well and truly in the bud despite it being quite an attractive one in the circumstances.

"Very well," he sighed, and reached up to undo his jacket buttons. "Sometimes I don't think you trust me."

"It's not that I don't trust you," she started to explain; "it's the fact that I'd rather not risk it."

He nodded his agreement, but watching her go into the en suite shower room made his hearts ache for all the injustices she had suffered at the hands of men.

When she re-emerged, he was sat on the bed wearing just the t-shirt he wore under his shirt and his boxer shorts. "I was thinking," he proposed on seeing her, "you could wear my shirt as a nightdress if you like. Would save sleeping in your bra."

She smiled in gratitude. "Thanks. That's very kind of you but, not to appear rude, you've been wearing it all day."

"It doesn't smell. Honest. Anyway, it's there if you want it," he concluded, pointing to the article now slung over a hook on the back of the wooden door. "I'll be back in a tick."

With that, he went to wash as well.

Tentatively, she walked over, picked up his shirt, and took a deep breath next to the material. Could she wear it? Would it be wrong to do so? It smelt still relatively fresh, with a strong tang of his after shave. If she were honest with herself, she'd admit it smelt gorgeous. Flicking her gaze towards the inner closed door first, she decided she would use his shirt. Yes, why not? He'd offered, and she could be surrounded by him all night long.

Turning her back just in case, she lowered her bra straps, pulled the shirt on, undid the clasp, and then flung off her bra with expert ease. The cool crispness of the cotton felt delicious next to her bare flesh. Shimmying out of the rest of her clothing, she quickly lifted the bedcovers and dived in underneath. First hurdle was over with. Now she had to cope with the rest of the night.

"Ah, I see you took up my offer," he gleefully commented as he reappeared in the now subdued lighting. Donna had left on the small bedside light to help him find his way to the bed. "I'm coming in!"

"Did you have to?" she grumbled as he practically bounced into the bed. She continued to gripe once his body crashed into hers. "Bloody hell your feet are cold! Where have you been keeping them?"

"In my socks," he answered, pouting.

He couldn't help it if she didn't appreciate his lower body temperature and she was all cosy warm in comparison. As it was he was trying to not notice the fact she was wearing his shirt; and was trying equally hard not to restrict his attention to the way the buttons of it were straining above her cleavage. Thankfully her turning the bedside light off meant that she hadn't noticed any behaviour or eye-straying that could possibly be damaging to his health.

"Just… stay over there," Donna cautiously warned him as she lay down. The feel of his hairy leg wedged up against her smoother one was both annoying and exciting for all the wrong reasons.

He felt it best to say nothing as he accidentally took in a heady aromatic mixture of the soap she had used and her own unique scent, right up until he noted that she winced again with pain when she laid her arm down on the top bed cover. So he reached out to take hold of her right hand and pulled her body slowly towards him, so that they were both rested on their sides but facing one another. "It would be best if you slept on your left side tonight and give this wrist a chance to heal. Here, let me give you some more of my healing cells."

Without waiting for her to give him a yea or a nay, he licked languidly across her wrist, but this time he added in a faint suckle on her pulse point that almost made her go completely weak at the knees as his breath fluttered onto her sensitive skin.

"Thank you," she feebly muttered. "Who knew alien spit could be so useful. What about your wrist? Shouldn't you be licking it too?"

"Don't need to," he smugly commented. "All I need is a couple of hours of healing sleep and it'll be fine, remember."

"Lucky bugger. I'd forgotten you could do that. There's one tiny problem with this position," she remarked as she noted how close they were together. Almost face to face. "If we lie like this to help our injured wrists, we'll be breathing into each other's faces."

"I have a solution for that," he brightly offered, and plumped up his pillow so that his head was slightly above hers. "That alright?"

"Erm, no," she admitted after some seconds. Her head was sort of left awkwardly without proper support. "This position isn't very comfortable."

"Hang on a tick," he murmured, and shuffled about again. This time he ended up by rolling partially onto his back, taking her and part of her pillow with them, so that she was lying directly on his chest but cushioned appropriately. "There you go. That should do it."

"This is fine," she agreed, shocked, appalled and amazed that she was partially draped over his body with their legs now intertwined.

Her head was comfortable, so the only thing against this position was the increasingly intimate nature of their postures as she became aware of the natural rise and fall of his breathing that matched the rhythm of her own. But, she reasoned, if he was fine with it, then so could she be. As her happy daydream of pretending this was reality shifted through her mind, she slowly drifted down into a pleasant and much needed deep sleep.

The Doctor sighed in contentment as he gently stroked her hair, and smoothed his right hand down her back, to rub caressing circles to aid her sleep. Once he was sure she had fallen asleep, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and allowed himself to drift into a required healing sleep of his own; a welcome one that lacked the usual nightmares.

#~#~#


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

.

Easing into wakefulness, Donna idly noted that she was lying on a male body. Moving her leg had meant rubbing her knee over a hairy thigh, and a pair of arms tightened around her body in something akin to a lover's embrace. Wanting to offer equal comfort, she cuddled into him with identical fervour. But the inappropriateness of the action suddenly hit her sensitivities. He wasn't hers, they could never be, she reminded herself, and the only way forward in their relationship was to remain good friends. Their friendship was paramount, so she trailed her fingertips down the nearest leg she could reach with ease, and gently laughed when he practically shuddered under her touch.

"Does that tickle?" she mischievously wondered.

"A bit," he sleepily answered then smiled next to her forehead. If he kept still she wouldn't know what else it had evoked. "Did you sleep well?"

She released any hold she had on him and stretched. "Very, thanks. I hope I didn't squash you in the night. It must have been agony having a huge lump like me lying on you for all that time." With a self-deprecating smile on her face, she risked looking up at him. The smile grew when she saw no evidence that he was annoyed with her; although there was something weird about his expression now that she considered him. "Are you in pain?"

The question snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. "Oh no. None at all. My wrist has healed perfectly," he hurriedly explained. "I was just wondering," he asked softly, "why do you keep putting yourself down like that? I assure you that if I felt you sleeping on me were uncomfortable, I would have manoeuvred your body away."

"So why didn't you?" she instantly queried; to both of their surprise. Her and her big mouth! Why couldn't she have left him be when he was being nice? Donna berated herself for metaphorically prodding a wasps' nest with a pointy stick. Now he'd start lying through his teeth and she'd be able to spot every single fib as it dripped off his tongue. Honestly, why did she do this to herself? He already looked as though he was about to be forced into a shotgun wedding.

The Doctor was equally unhappy about the question, but for opposite reasons. He daren't tell the whole truth because he was convinced she didn't want to hear it; would abhor the consequences and possibly fear him afterwards, bringing their comfortable friendship to crash down around their ears. And yet, if he didn't say something complimentary to boost her self-esteem, she would keep dipping down into these ridiculous ideas about her body when it was more than fine. To him she was beautiful.

"I didn't," he began slowly, letting his brain whirl away to concoct some scenario that would save his bacon, "because I sort of…" He gulped. Nope, everything being suggested by his mind sounded crass; but a little bit of the truth could do no harm, could it? "I rather liked having you sleep on me." Her eyebrows had shot up into her hairline, so this needed some damage control. "You're lovely… and warm. Like having my own living blanket of… of…" A decent ending for that sentence would be welcome; any second now. "…of Donnaness."

"That's not even a word," she mumbled as embarrassment demanded a gruff response. The way he was soulfully gazing at her meant that she couldn't retain eye contact with him for the life of her, so she quickly averted her gaze, focusing her eyes on the neckline of his t shirt and the smattering of hair she could see trying to peep out. Most blokes would be reeking of sweat, but he wasn't. Not that she should be thinking about his body and the effects of them sleeping together in a totally non-biblical way. "But I appreciate you being nice about it."

"Donna," he rasped out to gain her attention. "Look at me." He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her head until she had to look into his deep brown eyes and see his sincerity. "I'm not just being nice. You of all people know how much of a prat I can be at times." She dutifully nodded at that, making him smile. "When I say I didn't mind and in fact rather liked you sleeping on me, I mean it. I want you to believe that you are not the horrible person you seem to expect me to think you are. Instead, you are…"

His eyes went suddenly wide and his hand dropped away. Oh gawd! What had he almost said?! This would not be easy to get out of.

Her soft expression hardened, just as he expected it to. "I'm what?" she demanded to know. "If you are deliberately doing this to wind me up, I warn you, I do not find this funny in the slightest."

"This is neither the time nor the place to deliberately rile you," he emphasised. He brought the same hand up to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers. Those amber ringed blue eyes of hers would be the death of him; if her fist didn't get him first. "I know you won't believe this but I really liked sleeping with you in this bed last night. You make me feel safe and comfortable."

"I do?" she wondered, unable to believe he could say such words to her. It's all very well having some bloke say they want to bed you, that had happened to her far too often in her life; especially when you are practically straddling them. It wouldn't take much for them to gain such an intimate position. But for him to mention safety and comfort, well, that was another matter entirely. "You make me feel the same way too," she joyously told him. "Thank you," she then uttered, leaning forward across the small distance between them to place a grateful kiss upon his cheek.

He saw the action; he'd anticipated her reaction, had willed it into being. So when she moved to kiss him, he had intended to meet her halfway. Her eyes fluttered shut as time slowed down for him, and he swooped in to press his lips to hers in greeting.

'Shocked' didn't begin to describe the kiss between them, Donna thought. 'Soft', maybe; or 'rather yummy' as his breath wafted over her cheek. 'Gorgeous' would have been another word she'd choose, because any misgiving she might have had about his intentions disappeared into the ether when his hand travelled to the back of her neck in order to crush her closer to him.

In the end she landed on 'beautiful' to describe it because it could have ended all too soon when she lost her balance and almost fell on him, thus breaking their close connection. But instead he eased them sideways without releasing his tender hold on her lips, rolling them gently, as they became lost in the feel of each other. Such sweet tender kisses.

Seconds later, he murmured, "I'm sorry, so sorry." Whatever he was sorry for, he wasn't exactly racing to back away from her. Not when she was wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting that impressive chest of hers against him.

"For what?" she wondered as she eagerly sought the feel of his lips again. If she didn't open her eyes properly then she could dismiss this as a lovely dream that she didn't want to wake up from.

"The kiss," he answered, still moving upon her lips. "Should we be doing this?"

"I'm game if you are," she faintly retorted, and guided his mouth to return to what he was previously doing.

This was addictive, she idly thought as her hands combed through the soft hair on the back of his head, raking her fingernails against his scalp. His taste was unique, his touch firm but tender, his movements desiring but not lustful. And most of all, his weight on her body, pressing down insistently, was delicious, powerfully sexy, and respectful in every way.

It didn't take him long to settle on her in a mutually pleasing position between her legs. "Very game," he gasped out. "Oh Donna."

Skin; she suddenly decided. She wanted warm skin under her hands and to gain contact with her own. "Off," she murmured, tugging at the bottom hem of his t shirt.

He dutifully obliged, sitting back momentarily to peel off the garment, leaving his chest bare to her sight. Her hand reached out to stroke the dark hairs that formed a pleasing patch above his hearts, unable to resist the action. In return, in tentative, gradual steps, he placed his fingers upon the placket of his shirt and began to undo the buttons; easing each button through its buttonhole with familiar expertise. At first she was appalled as he revealed her flesh for him to feast on, but his darkened eyes mesmerised her, and she pulled him back down to return to their previous succulent kissing. She urged his questing hands on with little groans of encouragement as their open mouthed kisses grew more fervent. When he cupped her breast to thumb her nipple, she thought her desire will set her body on fire, and she pawed at his back, sending a hand down under the elastic of his underwear to explore his sensitive flesh.

All that stood between them gaining further intimacy now was two layers of flimsy cloth, and even that wasn't doing a grand job of it as he pressed upwards to where she wanted him. She had long secretly dreamed of him doing this with her; and she groaned with him as intimate contact through rubbing together heightened their arousal. Should she just pull their underwear to the side and let him in, to join them completely? She wanted him so badly.

Their rutting actions immediately stopped as he pulled away from her, lifting up on his arms above her prone body, panting heavily with the strain of resisting doing more. His voice was husky as he stated, "We need to stop. There's nothing wrong. It's just… Not here," he added with a shake of his head. "If we take this step I don't want it to be here, in some random bed."

He had the largest case of bed hair she had ever seen, and an obvious raging need to carry things further between them. Hard to miss. He could almost poke her eye out. She wanted to laugh at how dishevelled, adorable and pathetic he looked in that instance.

"If? Don't you want us to?" she tried to clarify. Her worse nightmare was him doing something like this only as form of duty.

"Oh I do," he insisted, and considered where it would be better to take such a meaningful step forward. "Oh yes! How about we try under the sky of Po Ta Ho? Or in the resort of The Emerald Totality?" He was getting into his planning stride now, and was waving his hands eagerly about. "We could even book ourselves into the hotel under the Waterfalls of Karabocedia. The third moon should be perfect."

"Erm, Doctor," she cautiously pointed out; "shouldn't we have breakfast and get back to the TARDIS first? It would be helpful to have a means of transport."

"Of course, Donna Noble," he enthused, breaking out his broadest grin possible. But he allowed himself one more kiss between them before getting out of bed to dress.

#~#~#

Their efforts to sneak out of the B&B at the break of day quickly stalled once they entered the entrance lobby, and saw Jean Butler standing in the doorway between the hall and the dining room.

"Good morning!" Jean trilled as soon as she saw them appear. "Did you have a pleasant night's sleep? I'll see you through to your table for breakfast. What can I get you both to start with; tea or coffee? I wouldn't want you to think we aren't prepared for all our guests' needs."

The Doctor had momentarily forgotten the false premise of their visit. "Ah, we still can be surprised, I assure you. Anyway, I'm afraid we won't be able to sample anymore of your hospitality, but our colleagues will be along on Thursday to see if our good report is true."

"We've highly recommended you," Donna hastily added in. "But we have to go."

"Oh I am sorry to hear that," Jean sympathised. "Trouble with the children left at home?"

"Erm, something like that," the Doctor vaguely answered.

"No doubt they are missing their mummy and daddy," Jean continued. "How old are your wee bairns?"

Bairns! He wanted to protest that there were no such thing; but realised that this could be utilised within their cover story. The Doctor held out his hand, palm downwards. "About this much," he vaguely supplied as he gestured a height.

"Och, young enough to notice when mummy and daddy have special nights away together." Jean smiled reassuringly. "It must be difficult to do everything to your tastes without interruptions."

"Pardon!" Donna frowned. What was the old bat on about?

Sensing her confusion, the Doctor reached out to grasp Donna's hand to guide her away. "Thank you very much for everything. We'll be off then. Places to go, people to see; you know the sort of thing."

"It was lovely to have you here. Do visit again. Perhaps for an anniversary treat, or bring your wee ones next time," Jean suggested. "Give me fair warning and I'll make sure they're in a different part of the building from you."

"Yes," the Doctor cautiously agreed. It was best he did, he decided, in the circumstances.

"I'll see you out to your car," Jean amiably offered.

"No need, thanks. Our transport is parked further down the road from here. We got a little lost last night," he explained, and led Donna out into the chill early morning air.

A low level haze hung over the snowy landscape; giving the whole place an 'other worldly' feel.

"What the bloody hell was she on about?" Donna asked as soon as she could once they weren't within easy earshot of anyone at the B&B. "Unless it was me that's gone doolally."

"No, it isn't you," he confirmed as he pondered the same question. "I didn't mention any children to them. Did you?"

"No, not me," she replied. "Why would I be so stupid as to do that? We've not even got that far yet." Catching his startled expression, she hastily added, "You know, if we ever do. Not that I'm implying that I expect you to suddenly want to father children with an old frump like me. I'm probably well passed it, and you said..." Her voice petered away as she avoided the still raw topic of Jenny. "Anyway, it's a bit soon to talk that way."

"You're right," he agreed, nodding. "It's too soon. We haven't discussed methods of contraception yet, how we want this to play out or anything. For the record, I don't think you are old, a frump, or an unlikely candidate to be the mother of my children."

"You don't?!" she wondered, annoyed with how hopeful she sounded in light of this new development between them.

"Far from it," he clarified, grinning broadly. Then he raised her grasped hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "You are beautiful."

"Geroff!" she blustered.

He wasn't put off by her harsh tone because the crimson blush that spread across her face said completely the opposite. Not that she had been a wilting violet earlier in bed when they had heavily petted. "For you, I would consider fatherhood again."

"I erm... I don't know what to say," she admitted, blowing out her cheeks. "Big step and all that."

"How about 'oh Doctor, how devilishly handsome you are'?" he proposed.

The resultant thump on the arm really wasn't unexpected either before they resumed their journey back home.

#~#~#

They happily sauntered along, admiring the scenery as they walked, either arm in arm or hand in hand. It was rare for them to be able to take the time to relax and enjoy their surroundings after an adventure before leaving in the TARDIS. This time around, they were also basking in their newly formed relationship as a couple rather than as friends often mistaken for a couple.

"This loch is pretty," Donna remarked. The snow covered mountains made it look particularly beautiful.

"We hardly saw it in the dark yesterday," the Doctor commented as they slowed to a halt by the loch shore. They were very close to where they had endured a less than friendly encounter with some locals. "But we need to go carefully, to avoid being tied together again."

"So you're regretting getting tied to me and more; are you," she teased, prodding him in the chest.

"Why would I do that?" he wondered. "The 'more' was the best part." He drew her into his arms and tenderly kissed her for some seconds.

It was a splash from the side of them that broke them apart.

"Ah, the mating dance," a soft foreign voice commented.

They both turned to see the recognisable face of the creature they had rescued the day before.

"Hello Ernie! How wonderful to see you again," the Doctor greeted the sight of the Nessarian. It towered above them as it reared up out of the loch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, my dear chap, I'm off to visit the family further up the lochs. I recalled you said you had arrived somewhere on the way and wondered if you and your mate would care for a lift to your den."

"That would be brilliant!" the Doctor enthused.

"Count me in," Donna eagerly agreed. "How often do you get a lift from Nessie? Once in a lifetime opportunity, I'm guessing."

"Not Nessie-sarily. You might get wet," the Doctor warned as he clambered on to Ernie's back.

But Donna was already joining him, sitting in front so that he could keep her from falling off. "Don't care," she petulantly remarked. "And it's too late for that," she saucily added in a whisper, causing him to gleefully kiss her temple.

Ernie smiled in his own special way. "Last one there is a human," he cried, and sped off through the still waters.

"Oi!" Donna indignantly retorted, but her ire was soon swallowed up and dissipated by the thrill of the ride.

"Woo hooo!"

They sped through the calm waters of the loch at a fast rate of knots, heading towards the TARDIS in a fraction of the time it had taken them to walk the distance to the B&B.

"It's not every day you get to ride on a huge powerful beast between your legs," Donna pondered once they had reached their destination, climbed off and waved goodbye to Ernie. "But at least I can say I did it."

The Doctor finished waving to the Nessarian and turned to give her a heated look as he opened the TARDIS doors. "Then this must be your lucky year. Shall we go somewhere more private and give you powerful ride of a different sort?"

"Why? Got your own formula one racing car and track hidden away in here somewhere, Spaceman?" she wondered, wanting to deflate his ego. "Because that's the only thing that'd be better than our mate Ernie."

He placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her further into the depths of the TARDIS. "Did I mention how superior Time Lords are?"

"You might have said so one or two hundred times," she mocked him. "It was subtle, mind you, so I might have missed it."

He deliberately leaned in to ghost his breath over the exposed flesh of her neck. "I can be subtle or I can be devastatingly powerful. It's your choice."

The temptation to rip his clothes was all too prevalent; but first things first. "Thanks. Can I choose a shower followed by fresh underwear?" she asked, wrinkling her nose up in disgust. "I'm feeling a bit smelly now."

"Ooh, good idea," he agreed. This presented new possibilities. "And how about I move us into the Vortex first and then come to join you in that shower?"

She couldn't help reflecting his smirk back at him. "It sounds like a plan."

He nodded happily at her as his interest along with his sodden hair began to rise.

But he wasn't letting her go just yet, and kept her within a loose embrace while he guided her hands to assist him at the console, sending them into the Vortex, as promised. "Done. Now for this shower, my love. Can you remove your wet clothing all by yourself or do you want some help?"

"Why don't we go to the bathroom and find out?" She added in a flirty wink, one that had a power all of its own because it resulted in him practically dragging her giggling form towards the nearest shower.

Except she refused to be dragged and took off at a run to race him there.

He could hardly wait to see where all of this new adventure would lead.

#~#~#~#


End file.
